


I Saw Papa Kissing Santa Claus

by LillianDeLooney



Series: Makes You Wanna Sing [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Christmas Fluff, Confused Derek, Derek Feels, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Father-Daughter Relationship, Happy Ending, Kid Fic, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillianDeLooney/pseuds/LillianDeLooney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As it turns out Derek, Stiles in a Santa suit, and a five year old werewolf daughter who should have been asleep result into a very confusing situation for all...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Saw Papa Kissing Santa Claus

**Author's Note:**

> This series wouldn’t be complete without the addition of a catchy Christmas song fic! I know it's a little early, but I just couldn't wait to post this any longer (^_^)
> 
> Naturally, this fic is based on the song 'I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus'
> 
> Enjoy and Happy Holidays!

Stiles is sitting at the kitchen table, making a holiday wish list with his and Derek’s five year old daughter Emma. Derek’s reading the morning paper at the other end of the table, taking slow sips of his coffee as he reads.  


“So what do we start with?” he asks their little girl, rapidly twirling a pen between his fingers. “A free trip to the hairdresser to cut that gorgeous hair of yours to a decent length?”  


She clutches her long brown hair desperately, caressing the wavy strands between her fingers like they’re her most precious possession.  


He should never have let her watch Tangled.  


“Nooo!” she giggles, “Silly Daddy.”  


Stiles chuckles as she makes a funny face at him, shaking his head at how much she looks like him in moments like these. Whenever he’d imagined kids with Derek, they somehow always were the spitting image of his husband. Emma, though, is pretty much a girly version of himself.  


With her wavy brown hair, moles and freckles dotting her skin, even the cute little upturned nose. Then again, her personality is pretty much all Derek, so it’s only fair.  


“No? Then what do you want to ask Santa for?”  


“Uuuuuh…” she scrunches her eyebrows, deep in thought, clearly trying to come up with the perfect things for her list instead of just rambling off random stuff.  


 _So_ Derek.  


“Ooh, I want a _Furby_!”  


Stiles nods, writing it down. Of course she does.  


“Anything else?”  


“Of course, Daddy,” she says, rolling her eyes at him.  


Has he mentioned that she’s all Derek, yet?  


“You can’t make a wish list with just one thing on it! It wouldn’t be a list if there’s only one word.”  


God, he loves it when his little girl goes all smarty-pants on him.  


“You are absolutely right. What else, then?”  


“Uhm…I also want a _My Little Pony_ aaaand a…a _Rapunzel_ doll!”  


Stiles dutifully writes it all down.  


“How about that _Frozen_ coloring book you saw last week at the mall?” Derek butts in, putting down his paper and focusing his attention on his little family.  


“Yes!” Emma beams, “What Papa said!”  


“Any other requests?”  


She taps a finger against her chin, thinking it over. Then her eyes start to shine.  


“Do you think Santa will give me a baby brother or sister if I ask for it?”  


Derek chokes on his sip of coffee, while Stiles can only gape at her, dumbfounded and utterly speechless.  


“Why are your hearts beating so fast?” She asks, confusion written all over her face.  


Ugh, _werewolves._

 

*

~**~

~***~

~**||**~

 

That night Stiles comes home late, past Emma’s bedtime.  


It’s a few days before Christmas and Stiles volunteered as Santa Claus at the mall, filling in for his dad, because there had been some emergency at the Sheriff’s Station.  


Derek meets him in the hallway, greeting him with a warm embrace. Which is easier said than done, considering Stiles is still in his Santa suit.  


"How was your day, Santa?”  


Stiles groans. “I’m _exhausted_ , Derek. I don’t know how my dad does it every year.”  


Derek chuckles, scent-marking the skin he can get to, which isn’t all that easy with the fake beard consuming Stiles’ face.  


“Mmm, yes” he sighs. He loves it when Derek scent-marks him, especially now. He probably smells like a ton of strange people and kids right now.  


“Now, be a good boy and let Santa kiss you.”  


“Maybe lose the beard first?” Derek mumbles, tugging on the thing.  


“Ugh, hypocrite.”  


“Shut up, you love my beard.”  


 _Yeah._ He really does.  


So he indulges in his husband’s wish, hooking the beard under his chin so it isn’t in the way anymore. He backs Derek up against the wall, hungrily slotting their mouths together as he runs his hands through Derek’s hair, making his husband groan when he tugs on the dark strands.  


When they pull apart for some air, Derek starts ridding Stiles of his clothes.  


“Let’s go upstairs,” he says, running his hands over Stiles’ now bare chest. “As it turns out I have an extra reason to try and get you pregnant again these days.”  


Stiles snorts, remembering the events of that morning.  


“Oh man, I didn’t know whether to tell her right then and there or keep it a secret for a little longer.”  


“She’ll love the surprise” he says, smirking. “So you coming upstairs?”  


Stiles didn’t need to be told twice.

 

*

~**~

~***~

~**||**~

 

The next morning, Emma has turned into the freaking Grinch.  


She doesn’t want to work on her wish list anymore, doesn’t want to listen to her favorite Christmas CD. She even states she hates Christmas.  


 _Hates_ it.  


_Christmas.  
_

Neither he nor Derek have any idea of what came over her. When they question her about her sudden and weird change in behavior, she just crosses her arms and _scowls_.  


“Santa is a meanie.” She growls. “I don’t like him anymore.”  


Then her scowl turns to Derek. “And I don’t like you anymore, too.”  


Before he or Derek can pick their jaws up off the floor, Emma has turned on her heels and stomped off towards her bedroom.  


“What the hell just happened?!” Stiles exclaims.  


"I…” Derek stutters, shoulders slumped. He looks so defeated.  


Stiles’ heart breaks for the man, seriously.  


“Don’t worry Der, I’ll talk to her. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for this.”  


He starts walking in the direction their daughter went off to, but Derek stops him with a hand on his arm.  


“No, I’ll go.” He sighs. “She obviously has a problem with me.”  


Stiles frowns. He hates that expression on his husband’s face.  


“You sure?”  


“Yeah” he says, taking a deep breath.  


“Okay.” Stiles kisses him briefly, giving him an encouraging smile.  


Then Derek steels himself, walking towards Emma’s bedroom like he’s walking towards his funeral.

 

*

~**~

~***~

~**||**~

 

Derek’s standing in front of his daughter’s bedroom door, trying to figure out what in the world he did to make Emma act this way.  


He knocks, even though he knows Emma knows he’s standing there, holding his breath as he waits for an answer.  


“Come in” Emma calls, voice small.  


She’s lying in her bed, wrapped up in her blankets. Her eyes sad as she looks at him.  


He enters her room silently, walking over to her to sit at the edge of her bed, sighing as he strokes a careful hand over her head.  


“What did I do, baby girl?”  


Emma sniffs, eyes starting to fill with tears as she looks up at him.  


“Do you not love Daddy anymore?” she whispers.  


And what…?  


Derek is _so confused._  
  


“What?” he asks, dumbfounded. “What on earth makes you think that?”  


Instead of explaining, she gets angry again, shrugging out of his touch.  


“I _saw,_ Papa!”  


“Honey…saw _what_?”  


Emma huffs and rolls over on her side in the bed, showing him his back and refusing to talk about it any further.  


Derek really doesn’t want to, but gives up for the moment, deciding to give her some space.  


What the hell did he _do_?  


*

~**~

~***~

~**||**~

 

After seeing Derek mentally beating himself up for whatever he did to make their daughter act out like this, he decides to talk to her himself.  


This whole situation is ridiculous.  


Before he even reaches her door, Emma peeks her head out, hesitating.  


“Daddy?”  


“Yeah kiddo?”  


She worries her lip, grabbing a hold of his hand and dragging him inside her room, leading him to the bed to sit down.  


“Wanna tell me what happened?” he asks gently.  


She shakes her head no. “Can’t say it,” she whispers.  


Then he gets an idea.  


“Well, you said you were mad at Santa too, right? Why don’t we write him a letter to tell him why?”  


She visibly considers it, but in the end shakes her head again.  


“I can’t write it with you…you won’t like it.”  


“Okay…” Stiles sighs. “What about Grandpa, then?”  


Emma nods slowly. “’Kay.”  


Alright then. Stiles stands up, placing a kiss on her head before slipping his phone out of his pocket to call his dad. He wants to get this over with as soon as possible, finally finding out what’s going on.  


He has a Christmas to save.

 

*

~**~

~***~

~**||**~

 

When the Sheriff gets back to them with Emma’s letter to ‘Santa’, the man looks torn between being chiding or amused.  


He hands the letter to Derek first, who groans when he reads the reason their daughter was so angry with him.  


“What is it?” Stiles asks, because he has to know _now_.  


Derek looks sheepish, rubbing a hand over his neck.  


“She uh…saw me kissing Santa Claus.”  


…  


“You kissed another guy?!”  


Both Derek and his father give him a flat look.  


Ooooh.

 _Oh_.  


Then he starts shaking with laughter, the other men soon following at the ridiculousness of the situation.  


“She saw Papa kissing Santa Claus” Stiles snickers. “Poor thing.”  


“So,” his dad asks when the laughter has died down. “Any idea how you’re getting yourselves out of this one?”  


“Well Dad, I think I’m gonna need to borrow that Santa suit for a little while longer.”

 

*

~**~

~***~

~**||**~

 

His Dad leaves them to it and Stiles hurries to their bedroom to change back into the stupid Santa suit, beard and all.  


Then he and Derek go over to Emma’s room, entering after a tentative knock to talk to their daughter and explain a few things.  


Her eyes widen when she notices Stiles – or Santa, if you’d ask her – entering her bedroom.  


“What is he doing here?” she demands with a tiny growl.  


“He,” Stiles says, pulling on the beard to uncover his face, “has some explaining to do.”  


They both sit down on the bed with her, Derek telling her that Santa wrote them a letter back wherein he states that of course it wasn’t him who kissed her Papa, it was Stiles, dressed up like Santa because he had asked her Daddy to fill in for him for a day. Like a secret mission.  


“So yes, I still love your Daddy very much.” Derek finishes with a smile.  


Emma’s eyes are big and round as she beams up at them, finally understanding.  


But then worry crosses her face, making her pout.  


“What is it?” Stiles asks.  


“Do you think Santa will still send me presents?”  


Her voice is so small that Stiles’ heart breaks a little bit.  


“Of course he will, baby girl” Derek reassures her, letting her climb into his arms with an affectionate smile.  


“Good” she mumbles as she nuzzles into Derek’s chest, “I still want that baby.”

 

*

~**~

~***~

~**||**~

 

Christmas went over perfectly after that.  


Emma’s attitude had changed back to normal. She didn’t get her baby brother or sister, but was still very happy with the gifts she did get. She would just ask Santa next year.  


At the end of the day, they’re all ready to explode from the amount of food they consumed, drunk on the feelings of family and pack.  


They just put Emma to bed and now he and Derek are sitting on the couch in the living room, the TV on in the background.  


“I have one more present for you.” Stiles announces with a barely contained smile, reaching behind the Christmas tree for the present he hid there.  


“Do you now?”  


He nods and hands the package to his husband.  


Derek unwraps it, pulling out a kid-sized t-shirt.  


“Isn’t this a little small…?”  


Stiles makes a face at him.  


“For the love of God, read the text first.”  


Derek rolls his eyes, but holds up the shirt in front of him.  


Then he gasps.  


Because the words on the t-shirt say: ‘You’re looking at the world’s best big sister’.  


“Honestly I expected you to smell it before I even knew, but I’m glad you didn’t.” Stiles chuckles softly.  


“So am I,” Derek mumbles in awe, looking at the t-shirt in his hands with a blinding smile. “Definitely the best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.”  


He pulls Stiles closer, kissing him, hands unconsciously settling on Stiles’ still flat belly.  


“Merry Christmas, Derek.”  


_Merry Christmas…_

 

 


End file.
